Parenting Part III

     The last two days I've written about the parenting challenges I've been having with my son and my youngest child.  Now we come to the eldest.  At 24, Eldest (they/them pronouns) really is an adult.  Sort of. Regardless of their status, I find Eldest the hardest to write about and yet for the last couple years Eldest has been the one I've been most concerned about.  They are the hardest to write about because it is not as easy to write about parenting them without betraying personal information that they would not be comfortable with my sharing in this format.  With Youngest, I wrote about a situation she is in that I have found challenging.  With Middle, I wrote about our relationship from my perspective.  But with Eldest?  My concerns about Eldest have much more to do with personal factors.  So I will do my best not to be "revealing" while still sharing the challenges of being a parent to my first child.

     Eldest is currently living at home.  They are attending an on-line graduate school.  That is their "work" for now and it made sense, then, for them to save money by living at home while attending school.  But this has been challenging for both of us.  

    In many ways parenting adults is harder than parenting kids in that we can step in when our kids are young, we can "take control" when we see that things are not right, we can insist on doing things a certain way.  When they are adults, it is not as easy.  I still weigh in, I can't help but do so.  However, that is as far as I can take it, especially with my 24-year-old. So when they make decisions that I think are unhealthy, even hurtful for themselves or others, I can say my piece but then I have to let it go.  That is hard. In some ways we've worked this through. The first year Eldest was home was really tough.  I had a hard time letting go of expectations for their involvement in certain activities that I felt were family activities and family commitments, for example.  But we did work that through.  I've been able to adjust my expectations so that now, if they decide to accompany us on something that I previously would have said was a "family event" I am very pleasantly surprised.  If they don't, that's their choice. It took work on my part to step back, but I've done it and so that part feels better.  

    But there remain these areas where I have a much harder time letting alone.  I have wishes for all of my children that I don't think are outrageous: I want them to interact with their world in ways that are positive and helpful.  I want them to find work that is, ideally, meaningful, but even if it isn't meaningful, I hope that it will be satisfying work for them.  I want them to have dreams and visions and to work towards those ends. I want them to have friends and positive, healthy relationships with others. I want them to have a spirituality that is life-giving and meaningful to them. I want them to pursue positive and healthy activities with their free time. But more than all of these, or maybe as a sum of all of these, what I really hope for them is that they are functional and have joy in their lives.  

    What happens, then, when they aren't?  When all of my hopes for them are not being fulfilled and when I cannot help them because they don't want my help, don't want to hear what I have to say, don't want to take my advice, don't want my interference, and don't want to do any of the things that I "know" would help?  I've tried so many different approaches: sharing articles, my own struggles, stories I've heard. Mostly I've just been direct.  But I can't fix this.  I cannot make my adult children make better choices, and I cannot help fix things or improve situations that they don't want me to fix.  And wow, is it hard to let that go!

    As I've said many times before, their pain is my pain.  When they hurt, I hurt.  So my job here is two-fold.  First, I need to learn to be okay with hurting for my kids and not trying to fix it.  I need to learn to sit in the pain and not try to move it out for my own sake.  

    Secondly, I have to learn how to love from a distance: to figure out how to live my own life and how to find my own sense of wholeness and joy, even when I see them struggling.  This second one is really tough.  

    There is a song that I first heard a few year ago now that used to remind me of my son, but now reminds me of number one child.  It's called "little flower" and some of the words that move me so deeply include: 

                                                            "I won't walk beside you. 

I won't take you home.  

But I'll hold your heart from a distance 

as all your blossoms come and go....

And when you wake all alone in the darkness

As the autumn winds are blowing cold

You might hear a voice in the distance

A love that never let you go"

    Eldest is with me, but in so many ways, Eldest is no longer with me.  This first child who used to be my shadow, my mirror, and in many ways my best friend, has gone in a different direction, even while home.  Eldest still lets me in, but it is very different now: there is a distance, a way of keeping me separate and apart, that is difficult when I want their life to be better, more full, happier and I am no longer allowed to help.  To love from a distance, while physically close together, is a new experience for me.  And it calls from me everything I have to give as a person and as a parent.     

    Parenting is both the most rewarding and the hardest work I've ever done.  I think I may be closer to the kids than I otherwise might have been because of the traumas we've experienced together.  But this particular stage of parenting, this one of letting go of each of them in different ways and to different degrees calls me to pull from resources deep within to learn to love from that distance. That kind of love feels even deeper than when I loved them up close as young children.  It is a more independent, respectful, and equal love.  But it also requires an ability to trust and to be okay with a distance that is new for me. 

    As I said when I wrote about Middle, that first day, I imagine God must feel the same as we ebb and flow in our relationships with our creator-parent. 

Gardens and God

      Yesterday we went to Kew gardens and spent about five hours there.  Then we came back to our hotel in London, David got in some work (he’s required to work a certain number of hours while we are on this trip so he’s trying to squeeze those in while he can) while I walked over to Hyde park and walked it’s length, seeing many gardens, statues, lakes and wildlife. I found myself reflecting a lot on the nature of our relationships, both with nature and with God.

      I recently read the amazing and wonderful book, Braiding Sweetgrass, by Robin Wall Kimmerer.  I highly recommend it for anyone.  Professor Kimmerer is not only a botanical researcher and teacher, but she is also a Native American who brings with her the values of respect and appreciation for nature.  She discusses white Western culture’s “utility” mentality when it comes to the earth and the world.  We take what we want and see it as our right to do so.  Even when we talk about sustainability, she says, we do so often with the framework of being able to sustain our use and abuse of the planet’s resources.  We rarely, unlike Native cultures, think about the earth in terms of relationships in which there is a mutual give and take between all parties involved, between plants, animals, humans, and even the soil, rocks and minerals of our world.

     But as I walked around the gardens, I found myself thinking that maybe gardens bring a bit of exception to this utility thinking, at least the ones that are done well.  We do give back: we till the soil, we water the ground, we pull weeds that might harm, overpower or strangle the plants we are cultivating.  We work hard to create something lovely: the garden becomes the artist’s template for producing what is beautiful.  We put in the work, and in exchange, the garden gives us back not only beauty, but serenity, space, fresh air, amazing fragrances, and a grounding that I think only comes through getting our hands dirty in the soil of this planet.  

     I found myself translating this into thoughts about our relationships to God.  I think many people also “use” God in the same way that we use the planet.  We think if we worship, pray, follow the rules, and have right beliefs that God will give us what we want, that God will be in charge and controlling of everything so that we will have “blessed” lives.  It’s an exchange of sorts, but not one based on relationship: rather it is an exchange based on getting what we want.  This is often mirrored in the conversations I have had with people who believe that God is in control and in charge of everything.  “Everything happens for a reason” they say, believing God to really be a grand puppeteer who masterminds the smallest movements of living.  I’m sure that is a reassuring belief: that nothing happens that is not in God’s plans, so if we just do good, do right, God will reward us (though, even that is difficult for me to understand: if God is in charge of everything, aren’t our very thoughts controlled by God?  Then it is God who decides if we do good or not, right?).  

     My own beliefs are that God has given all creation free will.  That means I choose my thoughts and feelings, just as you choose yours.  God cannot control me or others, nor does God want to because God wants genuine relationship with us.  But in my conversations with those who believe in the “everything happens for a reason,” I have often been asked, then, what the point is in having a relationship with God.  If our prayers do not influence God to control what is happening, including other people and therefore control the outcomes, why pray?  If our worship does not influence God to be good to us, why worship?  

    That really goes back to the utilitarian approach to faith, life, the world, though, doesn’t it?  For me, we have relationship with God because the relationship, in itself, is worthwhile.  God is goodness, God is love, God is beauty.  Isn’t it always worth our time to be in relationship with goodness, love and beauty?  That relationship itself is a gift: enriching our lives and changing us for the better, just as any relationship with another who is good, loving and beautiful is enriching and changes us for the better.  Maybe that’s utilitarian, too; wanting relationships because they change us, enrich us, bless us.  But we recognize in these relationships that there is a give and take of both, not because we are trying to control or demand or even ask for certain things but because we genuinely value our time with the other, or in this case, with God.  If you don’t value that time with God, that is your choice.  And I believe it to be a choice God honors and does not punish.  I don’t believe God wants us to choose relationship with God out of fear of divine punishment or wrath, but out of love and a genuine yearning for connection.

    This causes me to wonder, once again, if “worship” is really what God values at all.  Because worshiping another keeps the worshipped being at a distance, does it not?  It’s not the same as talking, walking and listening to another.  It’s not a real exchange, it’s not a valuing of time together listening, learning and being together.  By the way, I don’t think this negates the value of church.  I just think that we need to imagine church differently.  It can be a place that encourages us to deepen in our relationships with God.

    Those are my thoughts this early morning in London as we prepare to leave on a tour of the greater England and Wales.  Blessings be with you this day, or rather deepening relationships be with you this day!

Kew Garden:

Hyde Park:

Changed in a Moment

 

Acts 9:1-19a

5/1/22

 

Today we heard about Saul/Paul’s conversion, and his being filled with the Spirit rather than persecuting those who would follow Jesus.  We have all heard this story before: it is a very familiar story.  It is so familiar that when people talk about great changes in their lives they sometimes refer to them as “Damascus Road experiences”.  But what I want to focus on today is that, while we in the extremely individualistic United States always hear this story as being a story about Saul and Saul alone, that Christianity is, in actuality, a very communal faith.  Our scriptures are not speaking to us as individuals, they speak to us as communities.  This story about Saul is no exception.  This is a story to a community of people, and the change that Paul experienced was a change that affected a great number of people.  But also, Paul did not experience this in isolation.  There were other players in this story who had very important roles to play.  We are told he was traveling with a group who also heard the voice.  We are told that he stayed with the disciples.  We are told that Ananias was the one who laid hands on him and healed him in Jesus’ name and then baptized him.  These are communal events.  And after all of this takes place, his call, and what he does from this point out, is to build communities of believers, entering synagogues, talking about Jesus, building up communities, groups of followers.  He is not about converting individuals, he is about building communities of believers. 

Christianity is very, very communal.  A commitment to the faith is a commitment to spend time in Christian community, caring for and serving God’s people, also in community.  I realize this is a foreign concept to many people.  Perhaps this is especially true of our younger generations at this point in time.  There is a myth at large, for example, among many young adults that religion is a private thing and does not require being in a community of faith.  But if you read the scriptures with intentionality, it becomes very clear that they have something very, very different to say.  Jesus, himself, was never a “lone ranger” but a person with a community not only of disciples but of many others as well, including women who were not counted among the twelve.  In Matthew 18:20 Jesus tells us, “For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”  This is a strong statement, a strong, strong statement that it is not just that God stands beside us when we are alone and praying, but that Jesus is actually tangibly present, here in this place, in this room, when we are gathered in his name.  We do not experience Christ, God-among-us, Emmanuel, when we are alone.  It is an impossibility to do so.  Christ is to be found in community.  God might be experienced alone, but CHRIST, God with us cannot be.  We, together, are the body of Christ – but not alone, not in our own individual practices.  We are the body of Christ as a community of faith. 

It goes even deeper than that.  In today’s passage from Acts, when Jesus speaks to Saul, he does not say, “Why are you persecuting my people?”  I want you to think about that for a minute.  Those were not the words that Saul heard.  Remember that according the book of Acts, Saul was hunting down people who were followers of Christ.  As the passage we just read put it, “Meanwhile, Saul was still spewing out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples. He went to the high priest, seeking letters to the synagogues in Damascus. If he found persons who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, these letters would authorize him to take them as prisoners to Jerusalem.”   But Jesus, speaking to Saul does not say, “Why are you persecuting my people?”  Instead he says, “Why are you persecuting ME?”  When we injure God’s people, we are injuring God, God-self.  This, of course, mirrors Matthew 25: “Whatever you do to the least of these you do to me.”

This story here, and Jesus’ words to Saul: these were not the exception.  This was the whole point.  We are deeply interconnected.  And when we try to separate ourselves from one another, walling off parts of our beings as “private” and “personal”, especially something as big as our faith, the people we harm are ourselves.  Our connections to others are our deepest connections to God.  Our faith conversations led us to a deeper understanding and therefore a deeper connection with God.  The sharing of our faith experiences also rounds out our vision and understanding of God.

When we are worshiping together, God is with us.  When we are feeding God’s sheep, God is with us.  When we are serving God’s people, God is with us.  When we connect with others in kindness, in care, in grace, God is with us.  And when we fail to connect with love and kindness towards others, we are failing to connect with God in those moments.  I think that part of the reason why meanness, why tearing, why estrangement and disconnection from others is so very painful for us is that it is not just a disconnecting from someone else.  It is a disconnecting from our very selves and a severing, in those moments, from God. 

               I think about when Pope Benedict made his decision to resign from his job as Pope.  That had not happened since 1294.  It was unheard of by many, and others saw it as unacceptable.  He made a very brave decision to do what he believed was best not only for himself, but for the church, since he could no longer serve as well due to failing health conditions.  In many, many ways he put the needs of the church and of the world above himself.  It was a brave and compassionate decision that recognized our deep interconnections and the need for wholeness and strength in leadership roles. 

               There is a story about a hospital volunteer who shared about a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare & serious disease.  Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness.  The doctor explained the situation to the girl’s little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. The hospital volunteer share that she saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes I'll do it if it will save her."  As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheek. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away?" Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.  But the point is: he did it anyway.

               Another story shares about a professor who gave a pop quiz.  The student wrote, “I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions until I read the last one: "What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?" Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50's, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. "Absolutely, " said the professor.  "In your careers, you will meet many people.  All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do Is smile and say "hello.." I learned that her name was Dorothy.”

               These are stories that remember our connection.  These are stories that remind us of the importance of each person but more, the importance of our relationships with those we encounter.  Those connections are vital in every day life, but even more vital for those of us who believe in God, who believe that God is the connection between all of us, is the love that we share between one another.  The more that we can love, the more that we can connect, the deeper our relationships with God.

A member of a certain church, who previously had been attending services regularly, stopped going.  After a few weeks, the pastor decided to visit him.  It was a chilly evening. The pastor found the man at home alone, sitting before a blazing fire. Guessing the reason for his pastor's visit, the man welcomed him, led him to a comfortable chair near the fireplace and waited.  The pastor made himself at home but said nothing.  In the grave silence, he contemplated the dance of the flames around the burning logs.  After some minutes, the pastor took the fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember and placed it to one side of the hearth all alone then he sat back in his chair, still silent. The host watched all this in quiet contemplation.  As the one lone ember's flame flickered and diminished, there was a momentary glow and then its fire was no more.  Soon it was cold and dead. Not a word had been spoken since the initial greeting.  The pastor glanced at his watch and realized it was time to leave.  He slowly stood up, picked up the cold, dead ember and placed it back in the middle of the fire.  Immediately it began to glow, once more with the light and warmth of the burning coals around it. As the pastor reached the door to leave, his host said with a tear running down his cheek, 'Thank you so much for your visit and especially for the firey sermon. I will be back in church next  Sunday'.

               It is essential that we remember this.  That when people are dying in wars, that we are lessened, that when people are hungry, we are hungry.  When people are angry and vengeful, we are suffering too.  If we want to be the people of Christ, we have to remember our connections, our unity, that we need each other and are deeply connected to one another.  Paul’s conversion did not happen to just one person. It affected all who interacted with him.  Those who traveled with him when it happened, those who were with him with Ananias came to heal him, and all the rest of those with whom he interacted afterwards.  Similarly, everything we do, everything we choose, the words we use, the attitudes we have: all of these have an affect.  It’s the butterfly affect, it’s the quasar affect: everything we do interacts with everything else.  It all matters.  Let us, in all things, remember our deep connections and choose actions therefore that reflect love, grace, and caring for one another.  Amen.

Those Challenging Moments - sermon

 

Luke 6:18-19, 22-23

Acts 16:16-40

5/8/22 

               In Sunday sermons we mostly focus on the gospels, but last week, this week and next week, we instead are focusing on the book of Acts.  The truth is that well over half of our New Testament is written by or in the name of Paul.  His story, and the messages he brings to us have had a huge impact on the Church, and on Christianity as a whole.  The book of Acts, in many ways, is a book about the beginnings of the church, of Christianity, but it, too, in large part focuses on the story of Paul.  So spending some time on his story and his messages has value for us, if only to understand better the history of the church, where we have been, where we have moved to, and where we are heading forward.            

               In today’s passage from Acts, then, we hear of the imprisonment of Paul and Silas.  What struck you as odd about this story?  We tend to read these stories with great seriousness, but the truth is I find this to be a particularly amusing story at many points.

1.        Paul became really annoyed with this woman who was, frankly, helping him spread the word.  We don’t know why he became annoyed, but he was irritated with her presence.  He was so annoyed that he “took her gift” away: calling the spirit of divination out of her so she could no longer be a fortune teller.  Is that a gracious way to behave?  Here is a disciple who is extremely human acting in an extremely human way: responding to his own emotions in a way that could not possibly be helpful.

2.       The “owners” of this slave girl had been cashing in on her gift.  So when Paul called it out of her, they were notably upset.  They then responded by throwing Paul into prison on trumped up charges.  Okay, we know this happens.  Still, what a funny, or odd, part of this story.  Paul’s behavior in reacting out of annoyance led him into prison.  Wasn’t very thought out action on his part, was it? 

3.       Those in the prison are set free and yet they don’t leave.  Now what on earth is that about? 

4.       The guard asks to be “rescued” – and I assume he is talking about escaping the wrath of the Romans who would have had his head for letting the prisoners go free.  But Paul doesn’t tell him how to be rescued.  He tells him, instead, how he can be “saved”. 

5.       The legal people learn that Paul is a Roman citizen, so now they are embarrassed by the way they treated him and have to apologize for it all.

6.       In their embarrassment, then, they beg Paul to leave the area.

All in all, it’s a very weird story.  Don’t you agree? 

As with all biblical passages, then, we are called to go deeper.  What is this story trying to tell us?  Is there a message here for us, something for us to learn and deepen from?  And if so, what is the message here for us? 

There are several things I want to point out about this story.

First, the “crime” that actually sends Paul to prison here is an economic one.  Yes, the owners of the slave girl turn it around and accuse Paul of an uproar in the city center.  But his actual “crime” was cheating these owners of their ability to use the slave girl for economic gain in this way.  Paul and Silas are attacked, beaten and imprisoned because of the greed of these “owners” of the slave girl.  This is true of today, too.  In many ways what looks like politics really comes down to economics.  Those who have don’t like it when they are faced with the possibility of less financial gain and they will still, to this day, come up with other excuses, even make up stuff, in order to act out their fear, their anger of losing what they have.  They too tend not to be gracious or compassionate but go for the jugular, attacking, killing, imprisoning and harming others. This is true at an individual level and it is true in a communal or corporate level.  Greed and the fear of loss do huge amounts of damage in our world.  In this way the story is cautionary for all of us.  Do we, too, out of our economic fears, harm others?  Do we, too, out of our economic fears, weave stories that appear to be about other things than what is really at the heart of the situation so that we can seek revenge or enact “justice” on those who would take from us moneys that we may not have earned in moral ways in the first place?  What causes us the most fear and anger?  And how do we deal with that when it does come?  Do we attack and harm out of our fear and anger?  Or are we able to step back?  To self-reflect and to act with love and grace towards the world around us? 

Another point that I gain from this story: Paul acts in a way that, at some level, frees the girl.  She can no longer be used and taken advantage of anymore because of this gift that she has.  Her “gift” has been cast out.  But he doesn’t do it out of compassion.  He does it because he is annoyed.  And for me this story then calls me to look and consider the times when God is able to use even our flaws, our impatience, our annoyance, to accomplish good things in the world, to bring life out of death, to bring freedom out of captivity, to bring release out of imprisonment. 

The girl relates to Paul.  She is a slave to an owner.  She accuses Paul of being a slave of God.  But she does see the difference: Paul’s “slavery” frees him, while her slavery imprisons her.  It is interesting to me that Paul does get annoyed with this.  After all, she is giving him free advertising.  The passage says this goes on for “many days”.  Maybe he just became tired of hearing her voice.  Whatever, the reason, he “frees” her from what her owners see as a gift, and what to her must have felt like a burden.  But the truth is that we never learn what happens to the girl after this event.  We don’t know if the owners then acted out in anger towards her for no longer being a source of income for them.  We simply don’t know.  Even the author of the book of Acts does not really see some people except as characters in his story.  He, too, overlooks the life of this small one, this “slave girl” in order to focus on his hero.  Jesus would have done differently, I am sure.  But this is a story about the early church and not about Jesus.  And as such, it behooves us, while we can marvel at the good that can come out of bad at times, to still do our best by other people: to have long-sight, long-vision into what our reactive behaviors can do to others.

Finally, the jailer asks to be rescued.  He knows he needs to be rescued.  He understands that because the prisoners have gotten out, that he is in danger and he needs help.  It will be assumed that he has let the prisoners go and he will lose everything as a result.  So, he is asking to be rescued.  But I would say the difference between him and us is that he recognizes his need for rescue.  Do we know we, too, need to be rescued?  And if so, what is it that you need to be rescued from?  What enslaves you?  What holds you captive?  What keeps you from true freedom?  What things imprison us?  Is it a list of “shoulds?”  I SHOULD do this, I SHOULD do that.  Is it a list of societal expectations?  We are expected to do this, expected to do that.  Is it work that is difficult?  Is it our bodies’ limitations?  Is it a worldview of scarcity?  Of fear? 

I think that if this story has anything at all to teach us, it is to, once again, look at things differently.  Would you be able to sing God’s praises and pray with joy if you were unfairly beaten with rods and thrown into prison?  Probably not.  But why not?  Why do we not see our challenges as opportunities for growth and deepening?  And how do we learn to reframe our lives, our challenges? 

There are studies that show that laughter changes us.  I think the saying, “well, I could laugh or I could cry” is an accurate representation of some of the choices that we have about how we see, interpret and understand what happens in our lives.  Can we learn to laugh at things when we feel like crying?  There have also been studies that show that when we smile, it actually improves our mood.  That while we usually think we smile when we are first happy, it can work just as well in the other direction: smile first and then feel happy.  Singing is also shown to create the endorphins in our bodies that lead to feeling well. 

But I think it goes deeper than that.  I think that our culture teaches us to connect through complaining, through our hardships rather than through our joys, and that trains us to see the bad, even in situations that are mostly good.  I will use myself as an example here.  As I’m writing this it is a glorious day outside.  The sun is shining, I can hear birds singing, trees are blooming with flowers.  I worked on this in March, so this week is my birthday, my daughter’s birthday, my mom’s birthday is next week.  I’m siting here thinking about my kids: all of whom are doing really well.  Middle is starting his very exciting internship this week, Eldest is about to graduate and has been accepted into their first choice of grad school, Youngest is looking at colleges, got to go to San Diego with a choir tour, is finishing her junior year.  I have a wonderful husband who is kind, loving and generous.  I have work that is fulfilling and has so much variety in it.  Things are good.  But what did I talk about today with Kristi and Sandy in the office?  I complained about something my son said rather than focusing on the fact that he reached out to me.  I complained about the pollen from the trees making me sneezy rather than delighting in the flowers.  I complained about the scam email I received from someone claiming to be in need of help (though giving me an address that wasn’t real, a “lease” form that had clearly electronically created signatures, a phone number that was marked by google as “scammers”, and asking me to MAIL the check because she wasn’t able to come in), instead of focusing on the reality that I always have more than I need which is why they ask me for help.

Youngest told me the week that on one of the fields at her school, they put out fake coyotes on the lawn.  The intention behind the fake coyotes is to scare off the geese who are so prolific in their droppings that they create a huge mess of the field when they land there.  She then told me that even though the coyotes are extremely realistic looking, the geese eventually figured out that they weren’t real, so the school has had to start moving them around on the field in order for the geese to continue to be scared off. 

Sometimes I think that we get confused by all the fake coyotes in our own lives.  Is this thing over here really a coyote?  Dangerous?  Threatening?  Damaging?  Or does it just appear that way when we are looking for the bad in our lives?

I want to be clear.  I am not saying that we shouldn’t ever get upset.  Really bad things do happen, to us as individuals and to us as communities and to the world.  The war in the Ukraine is one of those really bad things and it should upset us and call us into action.  Terrible things happen in our lives that need addressing.  And depression is a real and formidable force that cannot just be dismissed by “smile”, “Laugh” or “sing”.  What I am saying though, is what I pray almost every week: we can be empowered to do the work of the world, to confront the issues, to face the demons, as it were, by also recognizing the good, by remembering with joy the many, many blessings that come our way each and every day. 

If Paul can sing from prison, we can find delight in things every single day.  We are still in the Easter season and the Easter season calls us, in contrast to lent, to look for the resurrections all around us, every single day.

Don’t let the Coyotes, those beacons of death and danger, fool you: they are fake coyotes after all.  The birds, on the other hand, with their beauty and with their scat: they are very real.  So delight in the green grass, celebrate the life of the geese, and be empowered to remove the “stuff” left behind.  Amen.

Being Born From Above

 

John 3:1-21

Psalm 139:13-18

1/23/22

What happens in today’s story?  In today’s gospel reading, Nicodemus is asking literal questions which Jesus answers at many levels, the least of which is the literal.  Nicodemus’ response is to become very simply perplexed by Jesus’ answers.  He cannot move out of the literal, and Jesus becomes frustrated with him saying “Are you a teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things?  …If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things?”  We hear Jesus’ frustration with Nicodemus’ limited understanding and limited views.  But while we understand that when Jesus is talking about being born from above, that he is not talking about an actual second physical birth, none-the-less are we any more understanding of these difficult ideas, of these deep truths?  What does it really mean that “The wind (or spirit) blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.  So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Does it mean that we won’t recognize the Spirit because it comes unexpectedly?  Does it mean that everyone born of the Spirit is like the wind, flitting in and out?

So today, I actually want us to do something a little different.  We are going to do a study, rather than have a traditional sermon, and we are going to look at a number of different Biblical passages, all of which talk about “salvation” or “eternal life”.  I want to start by saying that I know we have different understandings within this room about what that even means, and I am not going to talk about what it means right now.  That’s for a different date.  For today I want to talk about how we get there.  Because there are a lot of different scriptures and they say different things.  So, for today I invite you to listen, to think, but also to participate with me in this, exploring these scriptures.

The first passage I want us to look at is Matthew 25, which we spend a lot of time on.  Who remembers the crux of Matthew 25:31-46?  “Now when the Human One[a] comes in his majesty and all his angels are with him, he will sit on his majestic throne.  All the nations will be gathered in front of him. He will separate them from each other, just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right side. But the goats he will put on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who will receive good things from my Father. Inherit the kingdom that was prepared for you before the world began. I was hungry and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me.  I was naked and you gave me clothes to wear. I was sick and you took care of me. I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then those who are righteous will reply to him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink?  When did we see you as a stranger and welcome you, or naked and give you clothes to wear?  When did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ Then the king will reply to them, ‘I assure you that when you have done it for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you have done it for me.’ Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Get away from me, you who will receive terrible things. Go into the unending fire that has been prepared for the devil and his angels.  I was hungry and you didn’t give me food to eat. I was thirsty and you didn’t give me anything to drink.  I was a stranger and you didn’t welcome me. I was naked and you didn’t give me clothes to wear. I was sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’ Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and didn’t do anything to help you?’  Then he will answer, ‘I assure you that when you haven’t done it for one of the least of these, you haven’t done it for me.’  And they will go away into eternal punishment. But the righteous ones will go into eternal life.”

In this passage what determines salvation?  What is NOT mentioned here?  (faith!).

This passage in Matthew is in great contrast to the passage we just read from John.  But while the passage I read to you from John talks about faith being the doorway to God, I now would like to read to you from the book of Mark 1:21-28: “Jesus and his followers went into Capernaum. Immediately on the Sabbath Jesus entered the synagogue and started teaching. The people were amazed by his teaching, for he was teaching them with authority, not like the legal experts. Suddenly, there in the synagogue, a person with an evil spirit screamed, ‘What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are. You are the holy one from God.’ ‘Silence!’ Jesus said, speaking harshly to the demon. ‘Come out of him!’ The unclean spirit shook him and screamed, then it came out. Everyone was shaken and questioned among themselves, ‘What’s this? A new teaching with authority! He even commands unclean spirits and they obey him!’ Right away the news about him spread throughout the entire region of Galilee.” 

Who is it in this passage that actually recognized and believed that Jesus was the Holy One, the Son of God?  Who was it?  It was the demon.  In Matthew 8 there is a story very similar to this about the demons in two men who also recognize Jesus for who he is.  They also then submitted to Jesus will.  To quote Matthew 8:32: “Then Jesus said to the demons, ‘Go away.’ And they came out and went into the pigs.”  So not only did they have faith, but they obeyed him.  Are they then saved?

Now I’d like to read from you from 1 Corinthians 12:8-10:  “A word of wisdom is given by the Spirit to one person, a word of knowledge to another according to the same Spirit, faith to still another by the same Spirit, gifts of healing to another in the one Spirit, performance of miracles to another, prophecy to another, the ability to tell spirits apart to another, different kinds of tongues to another, and the interpretation of the tongues to another.”

One of the many things that this says to me is that faith is a gift.  So, if what you need for salvation is faith, but faith is a gift from God, what does this say for those who have not been gifted by faith?  Did God pre-ordain them to not receive salvation?  Does this mean God has purposely withheld faith and therefore salvation from some?  Hm.  That wouldn’t be a very loving God would it?

One of my favorite passages is from Romans 14:8-11. “If we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord. Therefore, whether we live or die, we belong to God.  This is why Christ died and lived: so that he might be Lord of both the dead and the living.   But why do you judge your brother or sister? Or why do you look down on your brother or sister? We all will stand in front of the judgment seat of God.  Because it is written, As I live, says the Lord, EVERY knee will bow to me, and EVERY tongue will give praise to God.”  This is also reflected in Luke 3:4-6:  A voice crying out in the wilderness: “Prepare the way for the Lord; make his paths straight. Every valley will be filled, and every mountain and hill will be leveled. The crooked will be made straight and the rough places made smooth. And ALL people will see God’s salvation.”

So, the question that is raised by this for me is, if every knee will bow and every tongue give praise to God, and if all people will see God’s salvation, that sounds awfully inclusive.  And if salvation is achieved through faith or confession or belief, or even works, how does these passages fit into that?

Finally, we have the passage from John 14.  Jesus says, “I am the Truth, the Way, the Life.”  “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”  Many Christians have interpreted this to again say that all we have to do is believe.  But I don’t hear it this way.  This is about a whole lot more than believing – this is about following in and being in the “Way” and it’s about living “the Life”.  We come to God by following in or going in or being in Jesus’ way- So once again we are back to looking at what Jesus did and what we, therefore, are also called to do.  Jesus loved everyone –including his enemies – forgiving even those who killed him from the cross.  He healed the sick.  He challenged the self-righteous to act with love rather than legalism.  He fed everyone who came to him.  And we are called to do the same. 

As you know, there has been a long-standing controversy among Christians about what it really is that saves.  As these passages point out, this controversy was present from the beginning of Christianity and was therefore written into our very Biblical passages.  But I think that James sums it up for us pretty well in his second chapter vs. 14-17: “My brothers and sisters, what good is it if people say they have faith but do nothing to show it? Claiming to have faith can’t save anyone, can it?  Imagine a brother or sister who is naked and never has enough food to eat.  What if one of you said, “Go in peace! Stay warm! Have a nice meal!”? What good is it if you don’t actually give them what their body needs?  In the same way, faith is dead when it doesn’t result in faithful activity.”  We try to separate these things out, but James tells us that they really can’t be separated out.

And that leads us back to today’s passage.  In the lectionary passage today, the story of Nicodemus, while Jesus uses the phrase, “you must be born from above” and it is only Nicodemus who uses the phrase “born again”, an idea Jesus challenges as showing a lack of understanding.  It is ironic, then, that so many Christians have bought into Nicodemus’ phrasing of needing to be “born again”, not paying attention to the fact that not only is this not Jesus’ idea, but that Jesus actually gets upset with the way Nicodemus fails to understand Jesus.  We can again become Nicodemus by being literal about a need for a second birth.  We can become formulaic in our understanding of what it is to be “saved,” the very thing Jesus is confronting.  Nicodemus is trying hard to make these ideas of being born of water and spirit literal and tangible – graspable.  We understand that.  We, too, want these ideas to be understandable, clear-cut, simple and spelled out for us.  Tell us what we need to do to be saved.  Make it clear for us and easy.  But Jesus says “no”.  “Being born of water and spirit” cannot be rigid, or fixed.  If it becomes cliché or codified, it loses depth of meaning.  Being born both of water (especially in the form of baptism) and Spirit requires putting aside certitude and assumptions – that is part of what Jesus means when he declares that the Spirit will blow where it chooses and we will not know from whence it comes or where it is going.  Trying to pin down faith in a formulaic or set way cheapens it and destroys it.  Instead, being born from the spirit invites us to recognize that God’s full character as revealed in Jesus will reshape our lives only if we stay open to where the Spirit leads, to where it blows in spite of and in contrast to our assumptions and expectations. 

A tourist came too close to the edge of the Grand Canyon, lost his footing and plunged over the side, clawing and scratching to save himself.  After he went out of sight and just before he fell into space, he ran into a scrubby bush which he desperately grabbed with both hands.  Filled with terror, he called out to heaven, “is there anyone up there?”  A calm, powerful voice came out of the sky, “yes.”  The tourist pleaded, “Help me!  Help me!”  The voice responded, “Are you a believer?”  “Yes, yes!”  “Do you have faith?”  “Yes, yes!  I have strong faith.”  The voice said, “In that case, simply let loose of the bush and trust that everything will turn out fine.”  There was a tense pause, then the tourist yelled, “Is there anyone else up there?”

Having enough faith, loving others enough – striving to do these things is all part of the journey.  It is all something we grow into. The question “Have you been saved?” for me is always be answered with, “I am on the way” because it isn’t a switch – either on or off.  It is a process of becoming more faith-filled, becoming more loving, following more closely in the path of Jesus every day.  Many seem to be able to point to a moment in time when they came to faith or offered their life to Jesus.  But I see even by their actions that they are, too, are really still on their way to true faith –most have not yet reached the point where, like Jesus, they are willing to give up their lives so that others, even their enemies, may live. 

So, as always, the question remains, where is the good news in this?  All of the passages we read today give us some insight into salvation.  But the Good News is that ultimately, salvation is not about us - it is about God.  It is God who saves.  It is God who loves us.  It is God who gives us the grace that leads us “home.”   And for me, what all of these different passages say, what God’s grace points out, is that I really can’t be in the position of judging anyone else’s path.  It is not for me to limit how or to whom God’s grace extends.  My concern needs to be about following the best I can in the path.

I want to share with you a quote from Charles Peguy (French poet & essayist 1873 – 1914) “Grace is insidious.  When grace doesn’t come straight, it comes bent. When it doesn’t come from above, it comes from below. When it doesn’t come from the center, it comes from the circumference. We may finish a way we never began, but we shall finish. This age, this land, this people, this world, will get there along a road they never set out on.”

And finally, I want to end finally with a poem written by Ken Rookes intitled,

Sometimes I am born from above

Sometimes I am born from above;

my spirit soars and I sense

that greater Spirit touching and caressing

my soul. Perhaps it is merely

my imagination, but I feel myself

rising above my petty concerns,

my selfish fears. In these moments

my soul sings (with Dame Julian),

all shall be well;

and my conviction grows deeply

that I must employ all my best efforts

to make it so.

At other times

I find myself firmly tethered

to this dust-filled earth, and those same

inward preoccupations push urgently

and insistently to the front,

and I worry, like the man in the story;

will I have enough, and have I got it right,

and will those gates be opened to me?

Sometimes I am born from above

and I feel the Spirit’s wind blowing,

blowing, and hear her singing

with words outrageous

and melody unconstrained;

thus I find myself moving awkwardly

but unembarrassed amidst rhythms

half-learned, infused with life

and never fully understood.

 

Let us be open to God’s Spirit today and everyday.  Amen.

 

Justified by Faith?

 

James 2:1-17

Galatians 1:13-17, 2:11-21

John 15:9-17

One year at famous acrobat who wanted to show the world the extent of his talents.  He decided he would push a wheelbarrow with a person inside across a tight rope that was strung over Niagra Falls.  He practiced often and early, working hard to make sure that it would be a success.  As he was practicing one day, an observer came by and said, “Wow!  This is such a wonderful idea.  And I have seen your talents and abilities and I have every confidence that you can do this!” The acrobat replied, “Do you really?”  “Absolutely,” the observer countered, “There is no doubt in my mind that you will be successful at this.”  The acrobat pushed him a little harder, “You really think I can do this.  Even with a person in the wheelbarrow?”

“Yes!  I have complete faith in you.  Even with a person inside, your skill would overcome any danger!” came the quick reply.  The acrobat smiled a huge relieved smile as he replied, “Good!  Then tomorrow you will ride in the wheelbarrow!”

“Are you crazy?” the observer countered, “I could get myself killed!”

We believe, God.  Help our unbelief.

Faith.  We say that we are believers.  But do we really believe?  This joke points out to us that belief, that faith, is not just about declaring that we accept something as true.  Our actions show at a much deeper level what, in fact, we actually believe. 

Historically we know that there has been a division in our church, between those who believe in salvation by faith, and those who believe in salvation by works.  This was one of the key issues that surrounded the Protestant Reformation.  Parishioners in the Roman Catholic church at that time were told they needed to earn salvation, first by doing good things, but also by buying indulgences in order to get out of time in purgatory and into heaven.  And Martin Luther said “no” - we are not saved by the things we do, or the money we give the church, but by our very faith.  Salvation does not have to be bought with action or money or favors or anything other than our faith. He had a good point in saying that grace is a gift, not earned, something we can do nothing to obtain.  But I would dare to say, that what began as an important point, what started as a stand against injustice, has in itself become a corrupted understanding that has now led once again to the creation of injustice in some of our churches.

We have talked about one example of this that was really evident in Central America for a long time. For many years, the dominant religious leaders were enforcing injustice, keeping the poor people poor by proclaiming that since they are richer in their faith when they are materially poor, and since God promises their reward will be much greater because of that wealth of faith, that they should be grateful for their poverty and not try to raise themselves up.  This is a corruption of the doctrine of salvation by faith.  It is a misuse of biblical passages, it is a mistaken declaration that future salvation means that the present life doesn’t matter and that it is okay for those who are wealthy to ignore the current suffering of the poor, because we believe that they will be saved after death by their faith.

When I worked as a missionary in Brazil for a summer, I saw a very similar situation there.  There were two kinds of missionaries serving in Brazil, and often standing across the street from one another in an especially poor area.  On one side of the street would be people handing out Bibles.  In Brazil, the Christian church is starkly divided between Protestants and Catholics, and the people handing out Bibles were Protestants trying to “save” Catholics into Protestantism by declaring that Catholics were not really believers.  Across the street from them would stand the other group of missionaries, with a hot pot of soup, a truck full of good, second-hand clothing, a couple chairs for people to sit and rest for a minute.  These two groups of Christians were often at great odds with one another.  Those handing out Bibles told those serving soup that they just obviously did not care about the salvation of the people, the only thing that really mattered. And those handing out soup stood on the passages of the Bible such as the passage in James 2: 14-17: “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them?  Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?  In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.”  In the middle of this fighting, the faith itself, Christianity itself, looked problematic to those they would serve; it seemed confused and corrupt, it looked like a faith that was lost.

Today we move in our narrative lectionary study into a look at the book of Galatians, another seldom read book of the New Testament.  And today’s scripture is especially interesting to me because of a long-time translation error that has only recently been corrected. If you have your NIV bibles in front of you, I invite you to look at chapter 2 verse 16.  This has historically been translated, “know that a person is not justified by the works of the law, but by faith in Jesus Christ.”  The word “faith” here is a gerund.  And while it has historically been translated “faith in” Jesus Christ, it is more accurate to say “faithfulness of Jesus Christ.”  I will now re-read for you this passage as it more accurately should be translated, “However, we know that a person isn’t made righteous by the works of the Law but rather through the faithfulness of Jesus Christ.  We ourselves believed in Christ Jesus so that we could be made righteous by the faithfulness of Christ and not by the works of the Law.” (CEB translation).  Do you hear how this mistranslation of ONE WORD has changed the meaning of these scriptures entirely?  This is a reemphasis that we are healed, we are made righteous, we are saved, we are made whole entirely and completely by GRACE.  Galatians continues, “I don’t ignore the grace of God, because if we become righteous through the Law, then Christ died for no purpose.”  For NO purpose.  And yet, we continue to insist that others follow the same paths that we do, that others have the same rules and laws that we do within the church. 

I’m not saying that our faith doesn’t matter.  Of course it matters because if we don’t believe it, we can’t accept it in.  The grace is always there.  It’s always offered.  But if we choose not to accept that grace in, we can’t be healed by it.  But what I am saying is that it begins with the grace, always.  And the grace is ultimately what heals us, it is not what we do, it is what God does.  Again and again and again.

And that brings us to the passage from John.  As Jesus says here, “You didn’t choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you could go and produce fruit and so that your fruit could last.”  Again, it starts with God.  It starts with God choosing us, claiming us, offering us grace.  It begins there, but it doesn’t end there.  For we are called to produce fruit.  And what does that fruit look like, “I give you these commandments so that you can love each other….If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love…. This is my commandment, love each other just as I have loved you.”  And why does God command this?  To be mean?  To be harsh?  To be insistent on the law?  No, “I have said these things to you so that my joy will be in you and your joy will be complete.”  God asks us to love because God loves us.  God asks us to love so that we may find true and deep joy.  God asks us to love so that our joy will be full and complete.

But again, the idea of salvation here by something we do is false.  And the idea of salvation here by something we believe is equally false except in that our faith opens us up to receiving in that grace that is so fully and completely offered.  The dichotomy which we have set up, between faith and works is a false one.  If we really, actively believe that Jesus is the divine incarnate, then we will believe what Jesus says.  And if we believe what Jesus says, then we must believe that the call of our lives is not only to love God with everything we’ve got, but also to love our neighbors, and yes, our enemies, as ourselves.  If we really believe, at our core, that we are to love everyone as ourselves, then we will live lives that try to make sure that all people, not just our family members, not just those in our immediate circle, have enough to eat; we will live lives that work to make sure that all people, not just those close to us, have lives worth living; we will do everything in our power to make sure that all people, not just those who agree with us politically or are in the same economic class, same race, same upbringing, same economic class, same country of origin, or same whatever can all live the lives that they want to live: lives filled with enough material good, with education, with healthcare, with dignity, with respect, with joy, with opportunities for their kids, with safety and well-being.  If we really believe, then we will have to take very seriously Jesus’ statement that our call to serve the poor is not just for them - it is for our very salvation as well.  And that our joy will only be complete when everyone has enough.

And then, finally, we return to the passage from James.  James also makes really clear in this passage that we are asked to do this, we are asked to love our neighbors as ourselves, for our own sakes as well as for the sakes of the poor.  I am poorer in my faith because of my wealth.  It is only in giving that away, in being willing to risk and in living by that faith that my faith is built and increased.  We are called, by this passage, not just to help the poor because they are poor and in need of our help, but for our own salvation, for the increase of our own faith, for the living out of God’s kingdom for all.

Taking this to the next step, then, we have to recognize that this call is hard, hard, hard beyond anything.  As Jesus himself said, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”  And ALL of us here are richer than the people Jesus was referring to at the time.  The reality is that we are not just short in our works, it is not just that we all fail to earn our salvation, the reality is that we also don’t have enough faith for our salvation.  We just don’t have it.  Very few with resources like we have really do.  Very few are willing to get into the wheelbarrow when we are called to the test.  So where is the good news in this?  Where is the good news that we are promised in our faith when we fall short both in works and in faith?

I am reminded of a story in which a man who died was told by St. Peter outside the pearly gates that he had to have 200 points in order to get into heaven.  The man thought hard and finally said, “Well, let’s see.  I was a member of my church of 47 years, a deacon, and a Sunday School teacher for 32 years.”  St. Peter replied, “That’s very good.  That’s one point.” 

The man looked scared but he continued,  “Oh my.  Let me think again.  I was a good husband.  I never cheated on my wife.  My children loved me because I was a good father.  I tithed, and volunteered at the soup kitchen.  I was in the Lions Club...”  St. Peter responded, “That’s very good, too.  It sounds like you were a man of both great faith and great works.  One more point.”  The man began to sweat as he thought and thought, searching for something that could give him the last 198 points.  Finally he said, “Gosh, if I get in here, it will be by the grace of God.”  At this St. Peter exclaimed,  “And that’s worth 200 points.  Come on in!”

We fall short in our Christian actions because we fall short in our Christian faith. But the good news in this is that we aren’t saved by our works, and frankly, we aren’t saved by our faith either.  The good news is that God wants to make possible our impossibilities.  As Jesus said to the disciples, “what is impossible for humans is possible for God.”  The good news is that God loves us despite our inadequacies of works and faith.  The Good news is that we are saved, not by works, not by faith, but by Grace.  God saves us through God’s grace which chooses us, forgives us, loves us, and calls us.  It is through that grace and only that grace that we are brought into eternal life.  It is through that love which gave its life for us that we are brought into God’s realm.  It is through that passion by which God overcame even death to be with us, even when we killed God’s son, that we, too, are brought into new life.  We have failed ourselves, each other and God.  But God still loves us more than life and still wants us to be part of God’s kingdom.

I’m not saying that faith and works don’t matter. Our faith opens us to accept that grace in.   But faith, too Paul tells us, is a gift from God; not earned, but given.  Works are a living out of that faith, a grateful response to that grace freely given.  In other words, it is through God’s grace that we have faith and do works.  It is through God’s grace that we find our faith and have the courage to begin living it out.  Through God’s grace, God helps us to grow closer to God and to love more deeply.

Dear God, we pray that you would give us the faith to see your grace all around us, in every day, in every way.  We pray that You would help us to live out that grace through deeper faith and more generous works.